


Midnight Drive

by BabyCharmander



Category: Grim Fandango
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, does this count as sickfic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:31:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyCharmander/pseuds/BabyCharmander
Summary: Glottis's energy seemed boundless. Or at least, that's what Meche had thought.





	Midnight Drive

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am here with _Grim Fandango_ fic because whY IS THERE NO GLOTTIS-CENTRIC FIC HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN so I had to fix that.

 

Times had been hard since they'd lost the sled dogs. Not that things had been entirely easy _with_ them, given the fact that they had been nine-foot-tall hellhounds rather than the fluffy, cute dogs Meche had worked with in life. They tended to be unruly, barking and whining at the entire company at all hours.

Possibly because nearly everyone around them had bodies that consisted of their favorite snack.

While the dogs kept things moving, they did no good for the nervous passengers. The former prisoners, though overjoyed at leaving the coral reef at the Edge of the World, weren't entirely thrilled at the prospect of crossing the snowy wasteland to reach their final destination, and the demonic dogs weren't helping things much. Several souls were terrified of the beasts, even though Meche had assured them that the dogs wouldn't hurt anyone.

That much had been true, but it didn't stop the hounds from chewing their way out of their harnesses one night and making a beeline back toward Puerto Zapato.

At that point they were already a month into the trip. Walking back to the port town on foot and back would take months longer—a waste of precious time. Glottis had volunteered to pull one of the sleds instead, but even as strong as he was, he couldn't possibly carry everyone the whole way.

Of course, that didn't stop him from trying. He'd managed to tie the remains of one of the harnesses over his body, and insisted on piling everyone into one sled for him to pull. Meche considered herself a patient woman, but even that had been trying. Not that she minded being close to Manny, but she could have done without Chepito's lantern constantly knocking her in the skull.

Mercifully, the sled shattered after a bad bump a few miles in. Glottis had tried to repair it using scraps from the harness, but there was nothing to be done.

They were stranded in the frozen wasteland, and there was no option but to head to their final destination on foot.

There was no food, no water—not that souls needed those things to survive, but it didn't stop their non-existent stomachs from aching for food or their throats feeling parched for water. The days were cold and the nights were colder, and they counted themselves lucky if they could find a boulder or the side of a cliff to keep shelter from the wind. Caves felt like luxury hotels.

It was hardest on the _angelitos_ , whose wings struggled against the harsher winds and who complained the most about their lack of provisions. They hadn't been given any food back when they were Domino's prisoners, and they didn't need it any more than any of the other souls, but the group's short stay in Puerto Zapato had spoiled them with food for the first time in ages. While everyone else felt the same pangs of hunger, the _angelitos_ were the ones that vocalized it.

Manny, while he tried to encourage the sorry group as much as possible, was, frankly, terrible with children. "Don't worry, _angelitos_ ," he had assured them once, "I'm sure we'll find something in the next few months."

"MONTHS?!" Pugsy had cried, immediately before he and his sister burst into tears.

Meche had been quick to step in, distracting them with stories from a few books she'd taken with her and ones she remembered reading to children before her death. She played games with them, and when they got too tired to fly, carried them short distances.

Surprisingly, Glottis had taken it upon himself to help the children as well. If Meche was too tired to carry them, he would happily set them on his shoulders and take off running circles around the group. The _angelitos_ were thrilled with this, and frequently asked "Uncle Glottis" for horsey rides. At night, they kept close to him, snuggled and warm in his enormous arms. Meche was grateful for the assistance—as much as she loved working with children, she was enduring the hardship of the wilderness as well, and there were times when it was all she could do to keep walking.

Glottis seemed _very_ enthusiastic about helping the group as much as possible, usually with tasks that involved running. Sometimes he'd even take the _angelitos_ on his shoulders and run off a distance ahead of or away from the group to explore. Through this, they would occasionally find other travelers they could trade with or safe places where they could rest for the night.

They weren't sure what they would have done without him. Glottis's energy seemed boundless.

Or at least, that's what Meche had thought.

One windy night several months into their travels found the group resting in a shallow cave. Some of the former prisoners kept close together to share what little warmth there was, while others tried to keep to themselves as best as they could. Meche sat with Manny, their hands entwined, while Glottis sat opposite of them, sheltering the _angelitos_ from the cold.

Meche kept watch over everyone for a short while, making sure nothing happened and that no dangers outside got into the cave. There had never really been any dangers other than the wind—there were no wild demons out here, and the other souls who were walking on foot knew better than to attack others at this point. Still, she felt better making _sure_.

But as the minutes ticked away and no harm came, gradually she drifted off to the snoring of the travelers and the howling of the wind.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but at some point she woke up to the sound of strange noises in the distance. They were hard to make out over the wind, and for a moment she wondered if she had only dreamed them, when a prolonged howl broke through the gusts.

Immediately Meche snapped fully awake, frantically looking about the cave.

Her non-existent heart jumped into her throat—Glottis and the _angelitos_ were gone.

But when she turned to wake Manny, she paused. There, tucked into Manny's coat, were Pugsy and Bibi, and Manny himself was snoring away, fully unaware of their presence.

Meche breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the _angelitos_ safe, but looked about the cave again in concern.

Where was Glottis?

Another prolonged, maddened howl seemed to answer her in the distance.

Meche shivered—had she been wrong about the wild demons?

Part of her wanted to wake Manny, but that would wake up the children, who might fly off in search of their missing friend. So, carefully she slipped away from Manny, rising to her feet and creeping out of the cave.

As soon as she stepped outside, a gust of wind nearly knocked her over, and she whipped her arms around herself in feeble protection from the cold. Why had Glottis come out here in _this_? His fat may have kept him warm, but surely it couldn't protect him against frostbite? Then again, she'd never been sure how demons functioned in this world. She barely understood how _she_ could get cold without flesh to be cold with.

"AAAAA _WOOOOOOOO_!"

Meche froze—the howling was even closer now, but she couldn't see the source of it. But—wait, was there something out in the distance?

" _Glottis_?" she called, but the wind snatched her voice away. Gritting her teeth and tugging on her hat to keep it from being snatched by the wind too, she marched further out into the night, keeping her back to the cave—knowing exactly where it was would make it easier for her to run there in case of danger, or else lead the danger away.

Meanwhile, the howling drew nearer, and Meche soon realized it wasn't the only strange sound out in this wasteland.

"RRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMM! RRRRR _RRRRRRRRRR_!"

It sounded like… a motor vehicle? Could there really be a car all the way out here? Manny had told her once that one of the premium methods of travel through the underworld was via sports car, but she'd never seen one.

"AAAWOOOO _OOOOOOOOOO_!"

The howl was suddenly a lot closer, and in the darkness ahead Meche spotted an enormous figure barreling in her direction. Even when she recognized the being's shape and gait, that didn't stop her from stumbling backward in panic. "Stop! _Stop_!"

"AWWWOOO— _WOOOOAAAH_!" Barely a foot away from her, the creature jumped upright and leaned its massive frame backwards, skidding in the snow before slipping and falling heavily onto its backside.

Glottis groaned, sitting up and reaching a hand back. "Oww, my—" Belatedly realizing who was standing in front of him, he shakily rose to his feet. "O-oh, Miss Colomar! I didn't know you was out here."

"Yes, well, I am," she said, taking a few steps closer to the demon. It was so hard to see in this night; the moonlight only outlined his form, and she could barely make out the gleam of his eyes. She shoved her hand into her coat. "What are _you_ doing out here, Glottis? You had me very worried!"

Even with the poor light, she could definitely see Glottis's frame droop, and heard him kicking at the snow. "Oh, you know, I was, uh… goin' out for a little midnight drive?"

Well, that explained the car noises. Barely. She dug through an inner pocket. "In this weather? Of all the ridiculous…" Her half-numb fingers finally grasped what she was looking for, and she drew the lighter out of her pocket, flipping it open and igniting it.

Glottis blinked rapidly at the unexpected light, pupils dilating unevenly. As she'd suspected, his eyes were bloodshot, and for a moment she wondered how long he'd been hiding alcohol. But upon closer inspection, he didn't show any other signs of inebriation—rather than being flushed, his face was unnaturally pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. His speech was also clear and unslurred, though she could pick up on the exhausted edge to his words. And… was he _trembling_?

"Glottis," she said softly, for the wind had finally begun to die down for now. "Are you all right? You look rather green around the gills."

He paused, then appeared rather confused as he scratched at his neck. "Uh, I think those are just fat folds. I don't have gills. If I did, I wouldn't've nearly drowned when Manny and I were underwater!"

While that was low on the list of importance, she couldn't help blurting, "Underwater?"

"Yeah! But Manny said I'd be fine, so long as I didn't turn blue."

Well, there was something she'd have to bring up with Manny later, but that wasn't the issue right now. "What I mean to say is that... you don't look well."

Immediately Glottis stood straight and rigid. "NOPE! I'm absolutely fine! Noooo worryin' about me!" He started to rock on his heels, but stopped when it caused him to wobble.

It was rather amazing, Meche noted, that the sweat dripping down his neck was not freezing in the subzero weather. "Glottis, are you telling the truth?"

Glottis's ears twitched back and forth as a forced grin split his face. He wasn't looking at her. "O-of course I am, Miss Colomar! Wh-wh-what reason would I have to lie to you?"

"You mean, other than the fact that you're clearly hiding something?" Even without the assistance of the wind, the sheer cold was doing a good job of seeping into her coat, and Meche itched to be back at the cave with the shared warmth of the others. She put the lighter away—it wouldn't be good to waste it. "You're not well, Glottis."

" _Sure_ I am!" Glottis cried, a little too desperately. His massive head swung in front of Meche, his face inches from her own. "I'm right as acid rain! Firin' on at least half of my cylinders! All gray skies and smog! I'm—I'm... _oh_ …"

Alarmed, Meche stepped back as Glottis swayed, and his eyes rolled back as he began to fall. Meche automatically grabbed for his hand, realizing a second too late that that wasn't a good idea.

Glottis hit the ground, dragging Meche down with him. "Glottis!" she cried, scrambling to her feet and reaching out to feel his forehead. It was hot, but then, weren't demons _supposed_ to have a high body temperature? "Glottis, say something!"

"Oooof… need… s'more gas… in th' tank…" he mumbled, eyes glazed and staring at nothing.

How long had they been out here now? Meche grabbed the side of the demon's face, pulling it toward her so she could look him in the eyes, and put on her best volunteer orphanage assistant voice—the kind she'd used with particularly stubborn children. "You're being foolish. Come back to the cave _right now_ and get some rest."

Without warning he jerked his head upward. " _I CAN'T, MECHE, I GOTTA_ _ **DRIVE**_!" he screamed, spittle flying, and Meche could practically see through his mouth and down into his stomach. He fell back again with a groan, shutting his eyes. "I gotta—I _gotta_! Ooooh…"

Meche wiped the saliva from her face, resisting the urge to back away from him. "I understand that you miss driving your car, but that's no excuse to—"

"No, you _don't_ understand!" Glottis's eyes were open again, and from what she could tell, staring at her. "I'm a spirit of the land! I-if I can't drive, I'll..."

It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about, and then she remembered: Back when she was on the cruise ship, she'd seen demons—not the terrifying wild ones she'd had to deal with in the forest, but civilized ones more like Glottis. She'd tried talking to them once, but they apparently weren't allowed to say much to passengers, and were very devoted to their jobs anyway. But one thing she did learn from them is just _why_ they were so devoted to their jobs—if they couldn't perform the task they were created to do, they would…

Nausea welled up where her stomach used to be; she knew what a fate like _that_ was like, and she wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Especially not the sweet demon that had helped them so much throughout their journey. Especially not Manny's best friend.

"Oh, Glottis…!" she cried, rubbing the demon's head. "How long have you been sick?!"

"'Bout a week after the sled broke," Glottis replied. "I thought I could tough it out for a while—or do somethin' else! I've been tryin' to convince the kids to play 'car' with me instead of 'horse,' but they insist on the horse thing. I don't get it!"

While Meche wasn't certain what qualified as Glottis's function, she was pretty sure _that_ was stretching it. "You should have told us something earlier! We can search for another sled for you, or perhaps a car—"

"Are you _crazy_?!" Glottis sat upright, presumably giving her a bewildered look. "We can't do that!"

Meche would have blinked had she still had eyelids. "Why not? You're _sick_ , Glottis! We can't just let your condition worsen."

"Oh yes you can!" He was standing again, hands on his hips, though Meche could see that he was shaking. "I didn't follow Manny out to the end of the world—uhh, literally, now that I think about it—just so the souls I was created to serve would feel _sorry_ for me! ...Hoooof…"

Glottis swayed for a moment, and Meche grabbed his arm to steady him, for all the good it would do. "It's not just that, Glottis," she said, letting go once he steadied himself. "We—Manny and I, and the _angelitos_ , and the other lost souls—we all care about you. None of us want anything to happen to you."

"No, but—I don't want anything to happen to _you_!" Glottis cried, holding up his hands and taking a step back. "We're crossin' this big ol' waste of space, and then you'll get to the, uh… whatever-the-last-place-is. The temple! I think. We can't stop now! If we break away to look for a sled or somethin', we could get lost!"

"That may be true," Meche said, taking a step forward, "but we would rather lose a few months of time than lose a friend."

Glottis's head dipped, and Meche could swear she heard the big demon sniffle. "It… it sure means a lot to me that—that _I_ mean that to you. Not sayin' it don't! But…" He heaved a sigh, and sat heavily in the snow, staring off into the distance. When Meche followed his gaze, she realized he was looking back toward the cave.

He beckoned her closer, and she hesitantly sat next to him. The ground was as cold as it looked, and the—feverish, she now realized—heat radiating off of Glottis wasn't much of a comfort.

"I'm a demon, right? I was created for somethin', and that's the thing that makes me happy. It's drivin', for me. But… you souls is different. You don't know what makes you happy. Or it takes a while to figure out, anyway."

Meche looked at him in surprise, but he was still staring toward the cave.

"I've been around a few thousand years now, I think, give or take… but Manny's the first soul I've really known. I've known 'im for goin' on four years now, and…" He gestured to the dark, snowy expanse all around them. " _This_ is what makes him happy."

She'd been following him up until this point. "...Pardon?"

"All this—sailin', and walkin', findin' souls that need help and bringin' 'em where they're _supposed_ to go." Glottis swung his head around to look down at Meche. " _Savin_ ' everyone."

Now Meche stared back at the cave. She hadn't known Manny for quite as long as Glottis had, but… what he said was true. This hadn't been the most enjoyable journey, but Manny had been in high spirits since they'd reached Puerto Zapato.

"Uh, s'pecially you, I think," Glottis added.

It took her a moment to realize what he meant, and she laughed a little. "I see. But… what does that have to do with—"

"Manny's happy. _Happy_! That ain't somethin' you see much outside of us demons in the underworld." He heaved a sigh—probably more to focus his feverish thoughts than anything else. "I can't take that away from him, Miss Colomar. That's like… that'd be like rippin' my heart out, and—!" His claws briefly dug into his shirt, but he thought better of it, and pulled his hand away. "I can't let him know I'm sick. I'm not gonna make him throw all that away for me. If… if savin' everyone else makes him happy, then that's what I wanna do, too!"

A sad smile crossed Meche's face as she reached over to pat Glottis's back. "Manny could not ask for a better friend in all of the underworld."

"Y-you…" He sounded choked up. "You really think so?"

"Of course." With that, she rose to her feet, keeping her hand on Glottis's back. "All right, Glottis, I won't tell anyone. But I _will_ keep an eye out for any possible vehicles you can use along the way."

"That's awful kind of you," he said, rising to his feet. "Ooooh…"

"Come on, now, I don't think running around in the dark will help you much." She began to guide him in the direction of the cave, but he already knew the way, his long head pointing like a compass.

"No, probably not…" Alarmingly, his face split open again, but this time in an enormous yawn. "I s'pose I could use some rest."

"Yes, I think you could," Meche replied, smiling. "Don't lose hope, Glottis. We'll all make it to the end, together."

"Yep," Glottis mumbled before yawning again. "We will…"

The next morning found everyone about as rested as they could be after sleeping in a cave all night. Glottis was up and alert with everyone else, already eager to play with the _angelitos_ to pull them out of their morning grumpiness. He hid his sickness better when he was rested, and no one commented on his usual behavior, as it should be.

His enthusiasm, admirable before, was even more so now that Meche knew of his condition.

He reminded her a bit of herself, in that way—wanting nothing more than to help others, even at the cost of his own health. But he would not end the way _she_ had.

Meche would see to that.


End file.
